Plum Pudding
by Blue Stem Cell
Summary: Charlie Bucket needs a boost of fresh air, so why is he sat sulking in a pub? Implied Wonka/Charlie slash. One Shot.


**Written for Idol Hands for their birthday and because you made my one-week left of the holidays just that little bit better. One year older! **

**Title: Plum Pudding**  
**By:** Bluemutantfreak  
**Rating:** R…perhaps (some swearing)  
**Warnings**: Definitely a heavy reference to Wonka/Charlie. Because we're all perverts and I have nothing to be sorry for. And female OC's.  
**Disclaimer:** It's a fanfic, I'm not earning money from this and if I am, who is selling it and why are you not in a nice big white padded room. And Vimto…I made it Wonkas.  
**Summary:** Charlie Bucket needs a boost of fresh air, so why is he sat sulking in a pub?

"Hot glasses, watch your backs!" A call came from behind the mahogany topped bar as a short girl managed to squeeze herself past the little rabble of bar staff to deposit the fresh drink wear. She knew she should have left the hot things cool a little bit before she heaved them up in their crate and over to the sink at the other end of the bar to slip them away. However, it was a Sunday and there was nothing to do in a pub on a Sunday evening. She had even contemplated on simply up and leaving work early. After all, there were three, including herself, members of staff in the office.

"So who cocked up the rota this time round?" She asked no one in particular as she slipped pint glasses back next to one of the tills where they belonged.  
"They know I don't do Sundays but I said I'd cover for Vicky." A young woman with tightly wound blonde curls said with a small sigh and a roll of her eyes as she leaned across the bar with nothing to do but stare at the opposite wall.

"But I told Tom I _could_ work. Sometimes I think he has selective hearing." Said Vicky as she pushed small glasses under the bar and he girl with golden curls nodded her head in agreement. They may have had cameras out in the bar but it was not as if those devices came with sound. In fact they could pretty much say what they wanted and Tom would never hear it, and even if he did, what was he going to go against three young females; the kind of females that dealt with drunks on a nightly basis.

"Why don't you go home Tilda? You've been here since 2pm anyway." The girl with the blonde ringlets said kindly. Tilda merely peered up from the putting away of glasses and contemplated the older girl in front of her. They had the same kind of hair, almost. But where as Charlottes' was pristine and golden, like little curls of gold on top of her very pretty head, Tildas' was a dull brown and rather fly away. In essence they where curls, lots of little kiss curls underneath but mostly just a bushy mess sat underneath a blue Alice band and set her almost rectangle face.

"Nah. Another couple of hours couldn't hurt, besides. I'm not going to pay those bills simply sat on my arse in front of the computer at home." The girl said rather simply as she straightened up and then a sudden thought struck and a sort of whimsical smile spread over her pink lips.

"Besides…it could still pick up." There was hoping and then there where impossibility's and with a small sigh she took her glass crate back over to the dish washer ready to simply fill it back up. It simply amazed her how so many glasses needed to be washed when there simply was not anybody in the pub to use them. Still stranger things had happened.

From the pocket of her black work trousers she pulled a bright purple packet of _Wonkas' Plum Pudding_ gum. It was a very acquired taste, almost as if to put one off wanting to chew gum. She would have liked to think that that was a preposterous thing to think, but then again it _was_ Wonkas Gum. There was also that strange little thing of his heir who had won the golden ticket competition some years ago. Funny how that little boy had been from the exact same town the actual chocolate factory was in. No one else seemed to pick up on this curiosity.

A town now that was so alive with the smell of chocolate that it simply floated in and out of such building like the pub she worked it. Smooth and dark fluttering across the senses in an almost fond way someone looks at a stray cat. That is, if the cats wore very peculiar top hats and had perfectly tailored velvet suits.

Oh, Tilda had let her wonderings get the better of her and there had been a customer waiting. The other two girls must have wandered around the other end of the bar and with a small pop of the gum she smiled and walked up towards the patron.

Before she had let a greeting spill from her mouth she stared in almost awe at the person sat at the bar. There was an ample amount of chocolate brown hair that fell in short choppy bangs around the boy's eyes, covering his ears and floating gracefully down to his shoulders. There, his pale neck was nearly covered by a bright green and black chequered shirt that was neatly topped with a bright purple V-neck sleeveless jumper. Around the opening of the end of the bar she had noticed a pair of brown corduroy slacks that slightly covered the bright acid green colour of his converse.

Her head snapped back up into place, a little know-it-all smirk appeared in the corner of her mouth. It was funny how these things came about, that seconds before she had been thinking about such delicate treats and their makers and now before her sat one of such men.

"Well if it isn't little Ch-"

"SHH!" The man forced his head up from the slumped position he previously had upon the bar and quickly pushed a finger up towards the bar staffs lips. Tilda slowly removed the odd purple latex covered hand and tilted her head over so slightly at the man in front of her.

"Chuck." A little tell tale smile crept into the corner of her mouth as she handed him his hands back, peering at his almost chocolate coloured eyes. With a small frown, she blamed the odd colour on the trick of the light in the bar.

Charlie Bucket blinked up at the colour, watching as she moved a piece of bright purple gum around her mouth. There was something oddly familiar about her but for the life of him he just could not figure out why. He supposed it was the length of time he spent in the factory, one tended to even forget themselves.

"No one's called me that in years. Since primary school even."

"And everyone else was cruel enough to add Bucket to the end of that nickname. But kids can be bastards and not realise until they're a bit older how cruel names can be. That reminds me, why did I get stuck with formaldehyde, it sounds nothing like-

"Tilda Hyde." Interrupted Charlie and the girl stood back and beamed at him. She was glad he had remembered and that Wonka's heir had not lost his head up in what she could only think of as a magical wonderland of a factory.

"I wouldn't have thought ten year olds knew what that stuff was. How've you been Chuck?" She smiled as she leant on the bar, happy to have someone to talk to and someone as important as Charlie Bucket.

The young heir remembered their time in school together and how Tilda's family were almost as poor as his own, but she did have five older brothers to compensate for and only one parent. Charlie was sometimes jealous of her sibling, not that he would ever voice that opinion. It was not her fault that her parents had decided to reproduce like rabbits and then her mother upped and died on them. Oh no, not her fault at all, and so he had kept his polite little mouth firmly shut.

"I've been, well, I suppose if I said I'd been better you'd only scoff at me?" He questioned the young bar maid with a double dimpled smile that Tilda was surprised he still had. What did Wonka have in his factory that was making this boy still look so child like?

Tilda did not scoff though; she merely frowned at him with a smile and reached a hand forward to ruffle through his fawn like locks. "Not at all. Everyone is allowed there off days, even the heir of the best sweetie maker in the world. Heck, I'm very sure the royal family had_ their_ off days. There was sarcastic tone to her voice and he gave a small nod of his head, he supposed that was very true.

"Now what can I get for you? It's March so you turned eighteen a month ago? If I remember?" The heir nodded his head with a bemused smile. How on earth had she remembered that? He peered up and behind her at the bottles of sprits and liquors lined up along that back shelves. Different bright coloured bottles and clear white substances that where sure to be more alcoholic than anything Charlie had ever consumed. With the exception of whatever concoction Mr. Wonka had come up with.

"Urm. Surprise me." Charlie had no idea what to ask for, it was not as if simply wondered out of the factory to bars and clubs all of the time. In fact, this would be his first trip to ever such place. Tilda got an excited look on her face and disappeared down the length of he back to fetch a jug. Back over she wandered to the ever-curious heir and half filled the jug with ice and fetched two small bottles of acid blue liquid from the fridge. She popped the caps and poured them both into the jug of ice at the same time. When they were empty and disregarded, she held the jug up towards the spirit bottles and clicked the 25ml button of port twice. The contents of the jug turned a vivid purple that he knew he recognised. With one last twirl of the drink and a new fresh glass and straw, she placed them both on the counter for Charlie.

"And there you have it sir. One jug of cheeky Vimto." She said proudly, going to pour a glass for the man, pushing it towards him. Charlie knew he had recognised he colour and even the peculiar smell, but to think she had made a children's drink alcoholic was slightly laughable. Sceptically he took a sip of the liquid and it shot up through the straw and spread itself around his mouth like a cold shock.

"You…it really does taste like Vimto! Just, alcoholic." Charlie admitted excitedly and he couldn't wait to tell his mentor that someone had done such an odd thing to one of his products.

"Occupational hazard I'm afraid. It's not really Vimto though, just tastes like it. So please don't let Wonka sue our arses?" Tilda asked as she rested against the bar, clutching the wood work with the bare tips of her fingernails. The man sucking at the straw though gave a very firm shake of his head. He knew Wonka was very protective of his recipes but all the girl had done was make something taste like one of his products, surely there was nothing wrong with that.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Said Charlie in that very polite manner that seemed to have carried through from when he was a boy.

"So Mr. B, you got a girlfriend yet?" Tilda asked innocently enough, but it was only to watch how red his face would turn. Sure enough, colour rushed to his cheeks and his shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly and she knew very well that is had nothing to do with the port.

"Because I can't really see you getting any action outside of that factory…unless." She let her words trail off and tried her hardest not to simply right out giggle at poor Charlie Bucket.

"Un-unless what?" Charlie questioned as Tilda leant over the bar and gave a small waggle of her finger. "Chuck, you know just as well as I do that I'm the only one you've ever kissed."

"You kissed me!"

"Yes, we where ten years old and the second I did it you wiped it away. Made me cry, if I remember." She couldn't help but laugh; Charlie's face was so priceless for such an innocent gesture. "Oh don't worry yourself, I'm quite over that. Besides, we _were_ ten, not as if I had kissing down to a T just then but eight years is a very long time to perfect that art."

Charlie gulped as the girl leant forwards and he quickly placed the straw back into his mouth causing Tilda to simply grin again.  
"So out with it Chuck B, how hard is Wonka riding you?" To this Charlie spluttered on his beverage, almost sucking up the straw in shock. He peered up at Tilda with the reddest cheeks he had ever felt. There were no dimples to them; just the shock of her saying something like that had caused him to feel like a fire engine.

"I erm…well he, it's urm, hard work but…um, it, it pays off, you know." He gave a nervous little giggle, a trait he had picked up from Wonka himself and too this Tilda gave him a modest look.

"Oh Chuck, how dumb do you think I am?" She asked without any hint of humour in her voice as she rested near his ear.  
"How long have you been in love with Willy Wonka?"

It was such a question to ask, one that caused Charlie to stare off into the wall in front of him. His whole body felt warm and tingled and he supposed that he could partly blame the port and vodka that was slowly running through his system. It was a question that he did not need to ask himself, one that he had known for a very long time and it made a smile appear in the corner of his mouth.

"Since the first time I laid my eyes on him. But I was just a kid, I didn't know what the feeling was." And when he turned down Wonka's offer to join him in his factory, it hurt more than he had ever known. But somehow he pulled through, that feeling that seemed so alien to his young little body. He would never admit it but when he saw Wonka again, insulted his silly hairstyle that he had come to adore, but his heart had fluttered and he could not bare to say no.

"He's just…it's…" It was hard. Charlie frowned down into his oddly coloured drink and could feel it taking effect, making him warm in places that he didn't want to be heated in right then. Alcohol never rested with him well, even rum filled truffles made him want to pounce on his mentor. Perhaps Tilda knew or perhaps her work had infiltrated her perceptions of people. Or maybe port was more expensive than run, who knew.

"It's Wonka. I've seen him in all the papers, new articles and everything. That man must certainly make living in a chocolate factory even weirder than it sounds." Tilda could never see herself living in that great brick factory. It must have been terribly loud and she supposed with no one else for the boy to crush on when he was younger, Mr. Wonka was the next logical solution. She had to wonder how long Wonka knew about this little crush and was it even a crush any longer. Had they perhaps been in cahoots for a while? Well, it was none of her business, though gossip was awfully tempting.

"He's a wonderful man." Charlie managed to say in an almost far away voice and the bar maid wondered if perhaps the vodka and port mix was a little too much. Sure enough, colour had started to rise in his cheeks and with another giddy giggle he sucked back on his straw.

"So prey tell, why are you sat in a smelly old pub drinking when you could be in your own little world with him, hmm?" And with that, Charlie appeared upwards and over the jug with almost sad smile on his face.

"Because." He could feel the heat upon his cheeks but fought through the embarrassment. "I love him but…but he's never said it too me." So Wonka _did_ know how Charlie felt and probably more too.

"That eccentric old thing has been locked up in that factory for as long as I can remember. My eldest brother remembers when he closed it all up and sent away all his employees. Never once did he have a girlfriend or a wife. Maybe…maybe you're the first…Chuck. Charlie?" Tilda arched an eyebrow at the giggling grinning form in front of her and she watched as his head swayed and slipped down from his hand and onto the bar below with an audible thud.

"And that's enough for you mister!" She took away the boys glass and jug and placed them on the back shelf, turning around she saw him slumped across the bar with a tiny little hiccup. With a sigh she grabbed up her coat from under the bar and slipped it around her arms. It was nearly the end of her shift and she supposed, as she was the one who got Wonka's heir drunk, she would just have to return him.

"Charlotte, run me a cheeky V through the till, I'll pay it through tomorrow morning." She called around the bar as she helped Charlie up onto his feet and made him slump his arm around her shoulders. With her spare hand she picked his plush blue velvet jacket and rolled her eye's at it. She would be having words with this Mr. Wonka.

X

"Now how the bloody hell am I going to get you in there?" Tilda huffed as she peered up at the great iron wrought gates that entwined themselves around the entirety of the factory. It was an usually warm night for their little town that always wanted to stay cold and so she was not too fussed about keeping the tipsy boy warm. She did want to get him back inside though. Supporting a ten-year-old boy on your arms is nothing compared to supporting a growing eighteen-year-old man who, apparently, still growing was something else.

As carefully as she could she placed Charlie on the floor and helped him get his coat back on. It felt like silk under her fingers and she couldn't help lingering a moment, taking in his almost unconscious form. That port really had done a number on him and the softest of sounds escaped from his lips. He had not been like this when they were ten. Oh no, Tilda remembered a very scrawny little child with as much meat on his bones as a chicken wing. This Charlie's very skin glowed and it was now that they were not in the bar that she noticed it. His hair no longer had that straggled look to it and it was almost as if he had grown into his very body.

With that in mind she peered up at the factory and a small intrigued looked passed her very eyes. What had Mr. Wonka been up to with her old school friend? She looked around her person and spotted a couple of pebbles that had come astray from the curb. The factory was a little way of from the road, but if she made a sound or two than perhaps she could stir whatever lay inside.

Tilda knew she was not a very good shot but what she lacked in strength, she made up in voice.  
"OI! WONKA! I BELIEVE THIS BELONGS TO YOU!" She knew very well that Charlie belonged to no one but himself and his parents. However, the pebble didn't make much noise and she huffed, crossing arms over her chest and threw her back up against the gates. She stole a glance down at Charlie and she wished she had gotten to know him better. Children can be cruel and more than once she had joined in with their taunting of the young Bucket. But those children grow and they grew up. A part of her wondered how much Charlie had grown up since then, probably more than her?

Suddenly, the gates behind her rumbled and she wobbled ever so slightly as she turned. The gates where opening and quick as a dash she tried to help Charlie to his feet.  
"Come on Chucky boy, up you get, off to see that lovely Mr. Wonka you're so madly in love with." A tiny bit of sarcasm dripped from her lips as she struggled and grunted with the chocolate heir.

"You…know. The Wanka-I mean…Wonka, could…have huh, come and-oww, got you 'imself." She had a right mind to give this _Mister_ Wonka a good talking too.  
"Nahhh." Slurred Charlie who attempted to pick up his own feet for Tilda but they sort of staggered to the side and she rolled her eyes with another grunt.

"'E don't…don't like it much, you know. People are such-such mean to him and he just…he's just…wonderful." Charlie trailed off with a longing sigh.  
"Yes I can hear the wedding bells." That comment _was_ dripping in sarcasm and they hobbled up towards she could only describe as the door. It didn't look like a door, just a large metal slab in the wall but there was a door knocker shaped as a swirly W. Secretly she wondered how big this man's head actually was?

After no door was opened she gave a roll of her green eyes and reached her hand out, going to grasp the knocker in her hands. It boomed off the side of the metal structure in no ways that a little knocker should be able to accomplish.

Slowly, after a couple of minutes of waiting in the dark, a door did open. Though it was not the ten-foot height of the metallic structure in front of them. A small side door located in the middle of the metal wall opened and a goggle-clad top hat wearing man poked his head out.

"Charlie!" He exclaimed at the top of his voice and with out stepping out of his little doorway he extracted the boy from Tilda's arms, attempting to not let his latex clad hands touch her.

It was very different seeing Willy Wonka upon the TV and in newspapers and then to actually see him in real life. For a moment she thought perhaps she was looking at a finely dressed mannequin, but she remembered they couldn't walk and breathe and what nonsense she was thinking.

"Where in Loompa Land have you been? You've had me worried sick ya silly boy, not to mention your P…P."

"Parents?" Tilda offered and she arched an eyebrow when he emitted a nervous sort of giggle in her direction and a nod of his head. "Yeah, them." Tilda watched with a small tilt of her head as Charlie clutched at the front of Wonka , playing with the shiny metal W he had laid across the front of the top of his shirt. Protectively, Wonka wrapped his arms around his young heir and peered down at the girl, his cherry stained lips twitching into a rather uncomfortable smile.

"Yeah urm. Charlie here can't handle his drink and I thought perhaps, you might want him back. Urm, never mind." She would just pay for his drink herself, it was only a couple of pounds and it really was her fault that she had gotten him so drunk. She gave a little wave bye with her hand and decided, as it was so late, that she needed to get back home to her father. Tilda had turned and started to walk back towards the wrought iron gates and towards the sanity of the rest of the town.

"Urm…er…little girl!" She heard Wonka call and with a small shake of her head she turned and nodded towards his grasping heir. "I'm the same age as Charlie Mr. Wonka." She told him with a warm smile with a hint of irritation in it. Wonka had resisted the urge to tell her that she was so short looking and peered down at Charlie a moment.

"You are…you're chewing my gum?"

"That I am. It tastes…tastes like you don't want people to enjoy it when they chew it." She told him and he gave a sort of dance with his shoulders. "Then why do ya chew it?" He asked and exited edge was added to his voice.

Tilda thought about this and she answered truthfully. "'Cos no other beggar at work will nick off with it." And with that she turned again but a sudden thought struck her.

"And Mr. Wonka?" She called and the mannequin-like man turned as he was trying to usher Charlie back into the factory where he firmly belonged.

"Tell him you love him for pity's sake." And she could hear the nervousness in his giggle as he bid her adieu and disappeared into the factory.

"Hmm, seems my Sunday really did pick up."

A few days later, Tilda walked into work, she had to try and wriggle herself around a large wide package that had been forced in front of the door.

"Hello!" She called when she had finally squeezed herself into the empty bar. She looked at the large purple clad package in the doorway and arched an eyebrow at an envelope with her name elegantly written upon it. Carefully she picked it up and opened the white parchment to read the card inside.

_Dear Tilda,_

_He told me._

_Love Chuck. _

And Tilda smiled as she pocketed the card and began to tear the paper from around the package to find a neatly stacked block of Wonka Plum Pudding gum.

"Oh Charlie. You still owe me seven quid."

**A/N: Longest One-Shot EVAR! Cheeky Vimto is a real drink. It's two blue WKD's and 50 ml of Port in a jug of ice. This went a little different to the way I planned it but I think its okie. And Plum Pudding flavoured gum? Sounds like something Wonka would make. XD And thank you to my brother, my beta who takes great joy in picking on me and my made up words. **


End file.
